


Alchemy, Heat, and Time

by waterofthemoon



Series: Name That Author/Guess The Author Challenge Fills [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Baking, Cohabitation, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26311087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterofthemoon/pseuds/waterofthemoon
Summary: Aziraphale keeps up his baking hobby after Crowley moves in with him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Name That Author/Guess The Author Challenge Fills [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805698
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38
Collections: An Eventful Surprise





	Alchemy, Heat, and Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bisasterdi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisasterdi/gifts).



> Written for bisasterdi, the mod of GO Events, for her birthday!!! We ran a mini Name That Author round in her honor, and one of the prompts was hobbies. Happy birthday, Amanda! ❤️

Sift the flour, cream the butter and sugar. Mix it together. Aziraphale prefers to do his mixing by hand; he could get a stand mixer, of course, and a convection oven and a baking scale and goodness knows what else, but he's a traditionalist. His old oven works perfectly well for his purposes, and the rest he can manage by feel.

Aziraphale remembers the first time he saw humans baking. Flatbread, just barley flour and water heated in a banked fire. He got to witness the miracle of it, of chemistry and heat: the way the raw ingredients combined into something greater and rose from the smoldering ashes. Bread, cake, biscuits, tarts—it all takes him back to those early people, using what they had to create something new.

He sets his lemon biscuit dough aside to chill—to his chagrin, he did have to add a small icebox—and checks on his latest sourdough starter. It's growing nicely, bubbling away, but hasn't yet had enough time to reach its potential.

"Oh, won't we be proud of _you_ ," he coos. "I am already. You might have to try a little harder to impress—well, you know. But I think you're doing just fine as you are."

The sourdough answers him by continuing to bubble. Aziraphale, satisfied, consults his list. He's thinking about attempting chocolate cinnamon rolls, if Crowley will be a dear and go out for more cocoa powder and icing sugar.

Aziraphale hums to himself as he flips through one of his cookbooks. Right on cue, Crowley stumbles into the tiny back room and catches him around the waist. "Morning."

"Mmmm. Good morning." He leans back into Crowley's hold. "There's coffee."

"'S a baking day, then?" Crowley hooks his chin over Aziraphale's shoulder and lays kisses on his neck until Aziraphale can't stand it anymore—he turns in Crowley's hold to face him.

He left Crowley sleeping in bed, and the sight of him now, barely dressed in pyjamas and bare feet, hair a perfect riot, makes him want to drag Crowley right back there. Crowley's smile turns crooked, like he knows what Aziraphale's thinking.

"Oh, you." Aziraphale leans in and kisses Crowley properly, running a hand through his hair to muss it further. "You don't mind terribly, do you?"

"'Course not. I love seeing you make things. Proper magic, that." Crowley's mouth curves into a devastating smile, laced to the brim with affection, and Aziraphale can only smile back helplessly in return. 

Crowley recognizes what Aziraphale does—the end product isn't the point, not really. Obviously, it's a wonderful benefit, but it's the act of baking that he likes more, the _process_ , the alchemy. The fusion that happens with just a little time, patience, and elbow grease.

They move around the tiny space together, Crowley sipping his coffee and Aziraphale attempting in vain to tidy up a bit, and when Crowley volunteers himself to pop over to the shops, Aziraphale thinks about how he's never felt more understood.


End file.
